


The Pulse that Thrums Underneath the Sidewalk

by OwlEspresso



Category: Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Sho and Minazuki are in separate bodies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 05:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15381951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlEspresso/pseuds/OwlEspresso
Summary: You'd rate the current state of your life to be a steady 5/10.





	The Pulse that Thrums Underneath the Sidewalk

**Author's Note:**

> 10K words. Hell yeaaaaaaaaaah.
> 
> If you like this content, be sure to check out my writing blog, which can be found [HERE](https://owlespresso.tumblr.com/). I'm usually a lil more active there and I post updates on what I'm doing.

The dull roar of the crowd is no stranger to you. Rather, you think of it as comforting background noise as you journey below the "abandoned" warehouse, where stale, yellow lights shine down onto a pit. Spectators from all over Tokyo flock here every weekend, to watch participants willingly get the shit beaten out of them. 

Vendors cluster near the walls and sell questionable cocktails. The booth near the entrance keeps track of the bets. This entire operation is absolutely illegal, but you could've sworn that you saw the prime minister's illegitimate eighth son here the other day, so maybe that's why it hasn't been shut down, yet. You can't complain. This is where you earn your extra income, anyways. 

You live in a shitty neighborhood, no doubt about it. College courses are expensive, as is living in general. There have been plenty of times where you've just wanted to throw in the towel. But you don't. Through your own cleverness, you analyze each fighter in terms of strengths, weaknesses, possible weaponry, etc. And every weekend, you bet on the ones you think are going to win. Usually, it goes in your favor, to the point where the booth manager has noticed, saying you "have the devil's luck".

You want to tell him off, but he is the one handling your money, after all. You keep that in mind as you make your way to the upper floors, observing the fight below. Most people try and crowd near the center. You find the most intelligent stay at the top, looking down upon the commoners with disdain. 

Sho is fighting, tonight. You don't know what his last name is. No one does. All you know is that he's good with the swords he wields, carelessly cutting through his enemies as though it were child's play. He's dangerous to have here, and the management knows that. While no one has (allegedly) ever died during a fight, there have been some close calls with Sho. Every night he's scheduled to fight, staff doubles. The only reason they don't dump him is probably because of how popular he is.

You look down at him, observing as the lights catch and shimmer on his blades as he swings them. His opponent, a burly man wielding a mace, had been a fan favorite. Many thought he would be the one to endure Sho's attacks and bring the terrible redhead down. They were wrong. He was much too slow to catch up with Sho's quick, erratic movements. There had been no hope from the start. From next to you, you hear someone groan in disappointment.

"And here I thought we'd finally fuckin' win something," A couple looks into the ring with displeasure clear on their faces. "Fuckin' Sho." As you move your gaze around, it becomes clear that there are other unhappy spectators. It's interesting. As time as passed, Sho has faced more adversity in the ring and outside of it. People are constantly trying to usurp him. And his arrogance makes him unpopular in most circles, as well.

Though, you don't suppose that matters. As long as he wins, the rest doesn't matter. The rest of the fight progresses quickly. You don't stay on the top floor to watch the whole thing, making your way down the grimy flights of stairs, emerging next to the booth by the time Sho's opponent has fallen to the ground with a significant thud.

"I'll take my winnings." It's better to beat the crowd, you think. The attendant looks to you with a wry smirk as he hands you the cash.

"Should've expected that. You're way too punctual." You don't honor that statement with a reply. The last thing you need is to get all chummy with the people who work here. Whether it earns money or not, this is illegal and could get you booted out of college if you’re not careful.

Instead, you pocket the cash you've worked so hard to earn (not) and head up the stairs as Sho leaves the ring, likely going to slip out the back of the building like most fighters do. It takes climbing four flights of stairs to reach the lobby, full of old wooden crates and other, miscellaneous debris. 

You're usually one of the first out, but this time, it looks like there's a crowd closer to the back of the warehouse. Interesting. But not interesting enough to investigate. You have enough trouble in your life to start with. Waltzing up to a random, shady group of people in the dead of night and asking a bunch of questions is the quickest way to get the shit beaten out of you. 

You hastily scurry into the night, a smile on your face.

\---

The week progresses as usual. Home to class, class to work, work to other work, other work to home. It's a boring schedule, one that makes you want to tear your hair out and cry. But you endure it with a smile on your face because you know that one day, this will all be over. As soon as you graduate, you'll get a job. 

You're already working on an internship in the field of your choice. All that matters is endurance. That’s it. That’s all you need to concentrate on. The light at the end of the tunnel.

And the weekly bonuses you've been getting from the fighting ring have definitely been boosting your morale. 

Grocery shopping is a lot easier now, you think to yourself, making your way home after a long shift at work. You dropped a stack of papers and received some ire from your superiors, but held your tongue and quickly gained their forgiveness by making them some fresh coffee. Definitely not the best working situation, really. But what could you do? 

You stayed out of the street lamps and closer to the brick walls, keeping your ears open, senses vigilant. You flinched as a car drove by, a crowd of drunken men hooting and waving at you. Their persistent, perverted comments caused you to walk faster, faster, until you finally reached your apartment building. Had tonight been a normal night, you would have gone inSide and made it to your apartment without any problems at all. But the world seemed to have different plans. As you walked up to the door, your boot bumped into something. And when you looked down, your eyes widened at the sight of a human arm.

You clutched your hands close to your mouth as your gaze followed the limb. Beyond the small, decorative wall of shrubs lay a badly beaten man. His breathing was harsh, coming out in only wheezes. 

You'd recognize that red hair from a mile away. 

There are several questions you have, but none of them take priority over another human’s life. Sure, you bet on fights every week, and love watching opponents beat the ever loving crap out of each other. But you can’t leave him here to die, so you do what your heart tells you is right.

Adrenaline in hand, you duck down clumsily lean his weight onto you, keeping a hold on him as you stumble into the (thankfully empty) lobby.

\---

It's been an hour since you've hauled Sho back to your apartment and bandaged him to the best of your abilities. His wounds, all things considered, didn't seem too bad. And you doubted he'd like to go the hospital, considering his notoriety in an underground, illegal fighting circuit. And most of the time, ambulances arrive an hour or two after being called in, regardless of whose life was at risk. You can't put your faith in the police and the people in charge.

The coffee pot rumbles as you lean against your kitchen counter, keeping a careful eye on him. He's still knocked out, laid down on your sofa. His expression is incredibly peaceful, and you might admire it if you wouldn't feel like a creep for doing so. A loud beep signals that your brown ambrosia is finished, and you turn to shut it off, taking the pot in a careful grip and pouring it into your mug. You grab the bottle of French vanilla creamer you have on the counter and pour some in, stirring to your heart's content. While you initially planned to get sleep tonight, you don't feel safe about being asleep when he wakes up. Though you had never met him in person, Sho didn't seem mentally stable.

The sound of sharp wheezing caused you to whip around, abandoning your coffee. Sho was sat up, eyes blown wide, pupils wider. They were shaky as they moved across your apartment until they reached you, and at that point, you put your hands up in surrender, making it known that you didn't mean any harm.

"I found you outside of my apartment building. You looked pretty beat up, so I brought you here and bandaged your wounds!" You exclaim, feeling a sense of critical urgency. He looks like a scared wild animal, but he stills, his trembling hands finding purchase on either side of his body. He's holding himself up, now. 

"Why?" He rasps dryly, and you turn around to get him a glass of water. He doesn't seem to like that, though. "Oi! Pay attention to me!"

"I'm just getting you a glass of water," You explain and he huffs, though is content with that explanation, "I mean. I'm not sure 'why'. I think I would try to help anyone who's injured. It's kind of just human nature." You shrug, pouring him a glass. You walk over to the fridge and get some ice cubes for him, though getting them out of the tray is a little bit of trouble. A few moments later, you're walking into the living room and handing it to him.

"Human nature?" He squints at the glass like he's suspicious of it, but takes it regardless. He slurps it down all in one go, astonishingly fast. Had you not known better, you would've thought the water just disappeared. "I don't think you're right. Humans are assholes."

"I mean, expect the worst but hope for the best," Having a conversation with someone who you've watched for so long is kind of surreal. He probably doesn't even know that you attend those fights every weekend. Do you want to tell him? You're not sure. It'd be better to feel the situation out a little more before making any hasty decisions. He’s a total loose canon thus far and you’d like to err on the side of caution before he decides to strange you in your own kitchen. (Maybe that’s a little dramatic.) "A lot of humans suck but there are a few gems here and there."

"Haven't met any." Sho says glumly. "Who the fuck're you, anyways?"

You suddenly realize that you haven't introduced yourself and immediately feel like a fool. You hastily say your name and tell him you're a student. He doesn't need to know anything else.

"I'm Sho. Don't you fucking forget it." A cocky grin stretches across his face and he suddenly looks like himself, like the version of him you see every Friday and Saturday evening. Looking at him up close, he's kind of attractive. He has a firm jawline and his body doesn't leave much to be desired, well-sculpted from years and years of fighting, you presume. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him and seat yourself in an armchair.

"I don't think I can," You drum your fingers against the arm of the chair, "You've made quite an impression. It's not everyday I find someone passed out in the bushes outside my building." At that, he scowls again. Maybe he's trying to look intimidating but it just really looks like a pout. It's kind of cute, in all honesty.

"I got jumped by some fuckers," Is all he says. "They were pissed about somethin' I did but they were too weak to fight me one-on-one. So they lumped together like a bunch of bitches and tried to kill me." Ah. Come to think of it, a lot of people had been upset about his victory, the other night. You can't blame them, because they lost money on it. But at the same time, they don't have a right to take it out on Sho. He was just doing his job, even if his job is to beat the shit out of other people. 

"Sorry to hear that," Is all you say, shaking your head. "I... come to watch your fights every Friday and Saturday night. A lot of people were upset about you winning." His attention is completely on you, at that point. The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver.

"You do?" You're not sure why he's surprised about it. You're a college student down on her luck. You'll make money in any way you can.

"I mean, yeah. I usually bet on you. I think a lot of those folks were upset 'cause they bet for the other guy and lost. But that's not your fault. You were just doing your job." At that, another over-confident smirk slips onto his face. He shifts to sit up completely and you see him wince, likely from the leftover aches. You've fixed him up to the best of your abilities, but you're in no way a medical professional.

"...I think I like you," Your eyes widen at that proclamation, "I don't usually like people 'cause most of 'em are fuckin' stupid. But I really like you." 

"Like... in a friend way?" You peep, and he stops smirking at that, his expression going thoughtful.

"Dunno." He shrugs, and that's the clearest answer you get for the rest of the night.

\---

The rest of the night passed with little to no troubles. Sho fell asleep a half-an-hour later, after demanding some food to eat. You made sure to lock your door when you headed to bed, because you can never be too careful. He was still on your couch the next morning, asleep. Fortunately, you don't have any classes today, and work isn't until later.

"Sho," You called out to him as you entered the living room, only to be answered by a lazy grumble. You rolled your eyes. For someone who was so lively when awake, he sure was a deep sleeper, "Sho, c'mon. I wanna change those bandages," Another groan, but no coherent answer. You huffed, kicking the back of the couch.

He jolts awake, eyes snapping open. It's a similar expression to the one he wore last night when he woke up, but this time, he rolls off the couch into a standing position, looking ready to kick your ass. The sudden movement was surprising, even though it probably shouldn't be. This guy makes a living by fighting in shitty conditions. He can't possibly have a pleasant past. With that in mind, you hold your hands up, showing him you mean no harm. His frantic breathing evens and his expression calms into minor annoyance

"What the fuck was that about!?" He demands, crossing his arms, looking awfully sassy for someone who had been sleeping on your couch all night.

"It's morning. You should eat something, and I wanna change those bandages," You answer. One of his eyebrows raises, expression suspicious.

"Why are you helping me?" This guy really does have trust issues, doesn't he? You find yourself at a loss, again. 

"I bet on you every Friday and Saturday. If your wounds get infected, you won't be able to fight as well as you usually do," You cross your arms, looking at him defiantly. It takes a moment for the information to process in him, but he eventually nods.

"Yeah... Do what you gotta." He grumbles.

It takes about five minutes to wrangle him into your small bathroom because he's really hungry and wants to look through your fridge. You can't budge him, because he's made of lean muscle, but you persuade him to follow you by promising to make him pancakes after. It feels like you're dealing with a child in an adult's body. He sits on the edge of the bathtub and watches you roll the gauze around his arm. It's the calmest you've ever seen him.

"You have a lot of scars," You hum, and he just grunts in affirmation, looking away from you. You can't tell if he's shy or not. "I'm guessing that means those fights aren't staged?"

"Like hell they are!" He fumes, face gnarled into a deep scowl. "I always fuckin' win cause I'm fuckin' good. Not 'cause other people throw."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," You soothe, patting his shoulder and moving to clean a cut on his upper abdomen. The muscle shudders as you dab it with antiseptic, no doubt because of the sting. "Those sword skills definitely can't be faked. I wouldn't bet on you, otherwise."

"Yeah. I'm pretty great, aren't I?" He shoots you another smile, though this one looks like a snarl, too. He's childlike. His moods fluctuate rapidly and he has a habit of throwing tantrums. So far, you've been able to persuade him using food. He always puffs his chest out in pride when you compliment him. It's kind of cute but it's also kind of worrying. You're not sure what kind of upbringing he's had, but you're getting the feeling that it wasn't a good one. 

Ten minutes later, and you've sent him back to the living room while you tidy up the bathroom. He can handle himself for all of five seconds. 

But he really can't. Because you hear a knock on the door and he opens it before you can even set foot outside the bathroom. For a moment, you're terrified that he's about to kill an unfortunately salesman whose come to your door. Fate fortunately spares you from that heart attack, because you rush into the living room and see Sho facing a mirror image of himself in the doorway. You recognize the newcomer as his twin, Minazuki, and feel relief rush over you. Sho is animatedly talking about "the fuckers" who jumped him last night when Minazuki glances over his shoulder, smiling gently when he catches sight of you. They're twins but in that moment, you know that Minazuki is definitely the better behaved of the two.

“Good morning,” Minazuki greets with a polite nod. “Thank you for taking care of my brother. I was worried when he didn’t come home, last night. He called me this morning.

“Yeah… it’s no problem,” You nod. Minazuki is a little taller than Sho, and he has bags under his eyes that make him look a little older. But he’s just as handsome as his brother. Sho looks from you to his brother and bristles.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” He huffs, and you give him a small smile. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You tease. You can tell he wants to give another retort, but Minazuki cuts in before he can say anything else. 

“I think we’ve bothered you enough for one day,” Minazuki disregards his brother and gives you a curt nod. “Come on, Sho. Let’s go home.” 

You expect Sho to turn around and leave without so much as a “thank you” in your direction. It wouldn’t surprise you. But he doesn’t turn around at all. He hesitates, his gaze locked on you for a few moments that feel longer than they actually are. You open your mouth to maybe tease him again, to ask him if he’s become entranced with you, but he turns and practically scrambles out of your apartment and down the hall, leaving you with Minazuki.

“He’s not usually this cooperative. I think he likes you,” The redhead remarks casually, giving you another courteous smile. “Thank you for taking care of him. See you around.”

He closes the door before you can even get out a decent goodbye. Not like you can blame him, when he has someone like Sho to chase after. 

\---

It's a stupid idea, but really, it's the only one you have. You scold yourself as you slither between the crowd, making it to one of the back entrances while the attention is on the two fighters duking it out in the ring. The loud cheers of the crowd seem to rattle the entire building. Usually, you're not a fan of the noise. But now, you'll take whatever keeps everyone's attention away from you. 

The exuberant yells fade into mere background noise as you slip behind two metal doors, leading to the back rooms of the establishment. Here is where the fighters wait before it's their turn, but this is the last fight of the night, so there likely isn't anyone else around. The thought comforts you as you walk down the hallway, for once glad that the security here is shoddy as can be. No cameras, no guards, no nothing. It's easy to walk into this off-limits area when the people in charge are so distracted by dollar signs. You pass various, surprisingly well-furnished rooms as you make your way to where the weapons are supposed to be. 

You live in a shitty neighborhood. And for the past six months, you've been at peace with it. But the kind old woman next door was robbed and beaten, so you're kind of on edge. Having a knife or a gun or a sword around can't hurt (even though you don't know how to use them). You reach the end of the hall and duck into one of the last rooms, grinning as you spot a row of sharp weapons hastily fastened to the walls with duct tape. It's pretty fucking silly, but you can't complain. It's difficult to make out the subtle differences beyond size when the lighting is so poor, but you'll take anything you can get. You walk up to the wall and reach forward, almost reaching the clasp as a voice rings out behind you.

"I didn't expect to see you here," You whirl around to face the door, eyes wide. Minazuki stands in the doorway, looking vaguely surprised as he strolls on in. Your voice gets caught on the million excuses you're about to spout off. "I don't think any of these belong to you."

"I know!" You huff, a sense of urgency overtaking you. You don't think the owners will take kindly to thieves in their midst. "It's just—I need one of these! Like, really bad! It's a matter of life or death." Your panic must be obvious on your face, because he gives you an amused smile.

"I won't tell anyone. You saved Sho the other day, and by doing so, you saved me a lot of trouble," He shoved his hands in his pockets and came closer to you. "...Though, what do you mean by 'a matter of life or death'?" Thankfully, he was giving you a chance to explain yourself. You jumped on that chance, voice hurried.

"I live in a really bad neighborhood and the lady next to me got robbed. I have no weapons in the house, so if someone tries to attack me, then I'm practically done for." It all comes out in one, urgent breath. He doesn't seem surprised.

"That makes sense. But I don't think having a weapon in your house will be of any help," He shook his head and you bit your lip, resisting the urge to tell him off. You spend every night fearing for your life and this fucker has the nerve to tell you that your harebrained, last-ditch plan won't work!? If he wasn't much taller (and likely much stronger) than you, you would have a few unpleasant words for him. "If you don't know how to use it, that is." Oh.

"You'll teach me. Because you owe me for Sho." You say, and it's absolutely not a question. The unblinking, numb gaze you fix him with hopefully tells him that you're serious about this. He laughs, and the sound is rich.

"People don't usually try and command me," He says in a way that means he's more amused than anything else. Your hackles raise, ready to tell him to not underestimate you. "It's an interesting idea. I'll think about it." You feel your eye twitch in obvious irritation, and you open your mouth to tell him "never mind" when another voice, much louder, cuts through the still air.

"Oi! What the hell're you doing here!?" Sho peeks his head through the door, narrowing his eyes at you.

"That's none of your business," You huff at him. You can claim it's because this is a private conversation, but you just don't want him to know about your idiotic plan and how it failed. Sho bristles at your attitude and steps inside the room, regarding you with a chilling glare.

"It definitely is!" He insists, crossing his arms and striking an adamant pose. You want to tease him, ask if he thinks he's going to get an answer by just standing there and staring at you. But Minazuki butts in before the two of you can begin a petty squabble, shaking his head.

"I'm going to be teaching her how to fight." Is all he says, and you're grateful for it. Sho, on the other hand, doesn't seem pleased at all.

"Huh!? Why the fuck're you gonna do that!? You usually don't do shit with civilians." He tips his head, a scowl still nettled on his features. He's pouting, again. 

"She lives in a bad area and wants to learn how to defend herself," Minazuki says, and Sho thankfully doesn't challenge that. "She saved you the other day, so we owe her one." Sho gives a sigh of displeasure, obviously not wanting to talk about his defeat and how you had to patch him up. It had clearly been one of his worse moments, and it definitely wounded his pride. 

"Uh-huh. But I'm the one she saved," It's not what you expected him to say, admittedly. From what you've seen, Sho is childish and stubborn. He initiates conflict whenever possible and seems to enjoy it most of the time, "So I should be the one to teach her." He huffs, talking about you like you're not even there. 

"Don't talk about me like I'm not even here," A scowl nettles onto your features as you raise your voice. You can't help but replay the scene from a few days ago in your head, when you had given Sho the exact same treatment. Karma struck in strange ways. "No offense, but I think Minazuki would be the better teacher." Minazuki's eyebrows raise but he's still smiling. Sho's eyes widen, expression shocked, as though he hadn't expected you to defy him.

"Like hell he is!" The aggravated redhead blusters, unfolding his arms and clenching his fists at his side. His shoulders go rigid. He's obviously pissed. You want to say "case in point", but Minazuki interjects smoothly, cutting off the argument before it can progress. 

"We can both teach you," Clearly the smarter and calmer of the two, you note. Sho has his own... charms (not so much charms as much as things you like about him that no one else would), but there's an attractive maturity that Minazuki exudes. It's the only part of his personality you have a decent grasp on, by now. They're clearly twins, and they've likely lived together for years, given how lose they are. Yet, they're both so different. What could've caused this divide in demeanor? You're incredibly curious, but it's not your place to ask. They probably wouldn't disclose their entire backstory to you, and they don't owe you that information in the first place. "Sho and I have different schedules, so it'll be more convenient if we alternate."

"That sounds good." You hum in agreement. It's obvious that Minazuki is the more dependable of the two. But maybe Sho will wind up surprising you. "We should exchange phone numbers! That way we can set up a date and time." The idea of casually texting with them is pretty surreal, given how you've spent the last few months just watching them from the top floor of the arena. It's like meeting an actor or celebrity you've only seen through a screen. They're here and they're real. This is really them and it's just a weird feeling to comprehend.

"Oi, don't forget I'm here." Sho grumbles, but he's digging into his pocket anyways, taking out a sleek, red smartphone. The exchange of numbers is brief and easy. You want to talk to them more, in person, but you hear the crowd give a loud roar from all the way down the hall and realize that the fight is over. That's your cue to leave, before someone else stumbles upon you. 

"I'm gonna head out, then," You say, heading towards the door with a sense of urgency. Before you can even set one foot outside the room, Sho's hand snaps over your wrist. When you look back at him, you're met with an equally bewildered expression, like he doesn't know why he's clutching onto you so tightly. The two of you stare at each other for several moments that feel longer than they actually are. This is the childish, needy side of Sho that you've only caught glimpses of, before. You've only had one encounter with the guy, but you can already tell that he's out of touch with his feelings.

"We'll walk you home." The painful silence ends Minazuki comes to the rescue, nudging you forward with his shoulder. Sho drops his hand from your wrist and follows you out the door, strangely quiet. He's avoiding your gaze and he looks like he just wants to forget what happened, so you don't push him.

The walk home grows more comfortable as you start an easy, casual conversation. You learn that Sho likes moose munch popcorn and Minazuki likes vanilla ice cream, only with chocolate sprinkles. It's calm, besides the occasional outburst from Sho when you tease him. Your prodding stays light for the most part as you slowly learn how to handle him.

When you arrive at the door of your apartment, Sho seems reluctant to part ways with you. Minazuki has to nudge him away but shoots you a glance through eyes that are hazy and intrigued.

\---

"C'mon! You can do better than that!" Sho's voice rings through your ears as you fall on your ass for perhaps the sixth time in an hour. You wince, reaching up to touch a forming bruise on your forearm. This was your second day of training. Minazuki had been the one to teach you yesterday. Admittedly, it went better than you expected it to. He was calm and collected, able to point out your mistakes while also commending what you managed to do well. Sho was completely different. He moved at a faster pace and was harsher. While you were getting the ase techniques down, it was hard to move with any finesse when he was coming at you so quickly.

"Minazuki is a better teacher." You remark, and it's definitely the wrong thing to say because his scowl grows deeper than it ever has, expression becoming almost maniacal. It occurs to you that this is a very secluded area of the park. He could kill you here and not get caught. 

"Fuck you!" He snarls, but doesn't take a step towards you. You don't push your luck and instead stand up, getting into the stance Minazuki had taught you yesterday. As soon as you stabilize, Sho is coming at you again. He's way too fucking fast, and you're barely able to shift to the side, dodging an oncoming punch. In a rush of instinct that even surprises you, the leg closest to him sweeps back, effectively knocking him off balance. You don't get to follow up, unfortunately, because you're so shocked that you managed to get in a (minor) hit that you're effectively stilled for a few seconds too long. His fist slams into your shoulder, abet lighter than the last hit had been, and you're sent onto the ground again. 

"That was impressive," Minazukis calmer voice rings out as he steps into the area. It's a small clearing, one half blocked by a large rock. The other side faces a fence, making it perfectly private. Large stalks of bamboo stretch towards the sky, alongside a few scattered oak trees. "Especially for only your second day."

"Don't compliment her too much!" Sho snaps, and your eyebrows furrow.

"Positive reinforcement is really effective, though," You don't hesitate to point out, and he huffs.

"If I fucking sugarcoat everything I say, then you're not gonna get anywhere." You get Sho's point, you really do. But he doesn't seem to understand that he can praise you and criticize you in equal moderation. He's an "all or nothing" guy, so his lack of knowledge in that regard doesn't surprise you in the slightest.

"Then balance it out," Minazuki sits on a fallen log and looks to his brother with a small smile. "Only criticizing her every move will only discourage her. People do best when you compliment and critique them."

"..." Sho looks troubled for a brief moment, and you're not sure why. You don't pry, but you want to say something to him. If he just insults you this entire fucking time, you'll probably lose your mind.

"He's right." You agree, feeling lame that you have nothing else to offer. Sho is the easier to read out of the two, but he's still difficult to interact with because he's so wild. While you know what he's feeling, his actions are unpredictable at best. You open your mouth but your lips refuse to form around the words for a few moments, "I mean," How can you explain in a way that'll really reach him? "Compliments feel nice and being told you're doing something wrong doesn't. It's only natural that balancing out the good and the bad will work better." Explaining emotions to anyone can be fucking hard, but especially when you're dealing with Sho. 

"Fine, then," Sho rolls his eyes as though to salvage his pride. He hates admitting when he's wrong, you know that much. "We'll do it your way."

"Thanks." You smile at him, and he immediately averts his gaze. He's trying to hide his expression, but there's a noticeable shade of pink dusting his cheeks and you feel your heart squeeze in your chest. You’ve only known them for a few days, but you can already tell that Sho is hardly ever this subdued. It’s a somewhat rare occasion for him to not challenge your judgment. As much as you’d like to savor this beautiful moment, Minazuki’s form obscures your view, his hand reaching down.

“Forgive him. He gets a bit ahead of himself, sometimes.” The redhead says languidly, but you hardly hear it. He’s close, closer than he’s ever been, so close that you can make out every eyelash. He’s just as pretty as Sho is, but his expression is much softer and it does funny things to your heart. You’re left speechless as you take his hand, easily hauled to your feet.

“If you two wanna flirt, then go find somewhere else to do it.” Sho blusters from behind his brother. His voice brings you back down to earth and you shake your head, as though to clear the fog from it.

“Sorry.” Minazuki’s still smiling when he moves out of the way. 

Sho isn’t blushing anymore, any signs of sheepishness gone from his expression. There’s only the fierceness he’s had with him since the beginning of this session. You’re not sure which look he wears better.

\---

"The guys at the arena won't leave me the hell alone." Sho says, and grumbles a few swears under his breath. It's been a week since he's started training you. In that amount of time, you've also just hung out with the brothers a few times. Minazuki is a university student, which is surreal considering how he looks like he's out of some action/adventure anime. Sho isn't a student, but he devotes much of his time to fighting for money and also washing dishes in a restaurant owned by a friend of theirs. You can't imagine Sho handling anything carefully, much less porcelain, so you don't know how many dishes he's broken or how he's managed to keep that job. You don't ask. 

"Why?" You inquire, looking in the living room mirror, dotting concealer onto your face. You have a meeting with your professor in a half-an-hour. It's for a class you're not so good at, so maybe if you look real pretty and give her puppy dog eyes, you'll manage to scrape by. Judging by the huff he gives, Sho seems miffed with your divided attention. "Sorry if I'm not paying complete attention. I have a meeting to go to in an hour or so and I want to be ready." 

What kinda meetin'?" He inquires. You hear his footsteps against the hardwood floor until he's standing right next to you, shoulder brushing against your own as he gazes at you through the mirror, looking incredibly befuddled. His head tilts in a surprisingly cute show of curiosity. "It looks like you're wearing face paint." He says bluntly, sounding as unimpressed as you imagined. Not like you could expect him to understand makeup. He's someone who fights for a living. You doubt he's worried about contouring his cheeks or powdering his nose. You resist the urge to smile as you dot the makeup on your face with a beauty blender.

"That's because I'm not done yet," You lightly inform him. "Now, why are the guys at the arena giving you trouble, again?"

"'Cause the championship fight is happening in a few weeks. They happen twice every year and they're a huge hassle to deal with," He seems satisfied with the opportunity to talk about himself. "They keep tellin' me that people are pissed about me winnin' so much. So they wanna give me a bodyguard or something." Ah, you remember that fact all too well. The idea of Sho being out all alone doesn't sit well with you. You know he can handle himself, but what if he gets jumped again? What if the angry crowd decides to kill him?

"It can't hurt." You say, placing the beauty blender down on a napkin, beginning to coat your face in light blush. "And if they're offering it to you for free, then it really can't hurt. Y'know?"

"I can handle myself," He glowers. It would be easy to remind him how beaten up he had been a week ago, but you don't want to make him angry. When he gets pissed, it's much harder for him to think clearly. And it's much harder to calm him down. You've gotten better at Sho-wrangling over the past week, but you're still nowhere near the level of Minazuki, who can soothe him with only a few words. 

"I know. But that doesn't mean I don't get worried," Your admission seems to catch him by surprise, because his expression stills. "I want you to stay safe."

"Why?" He echoes, and it sounds quiet. "I don't like bunching together with people, y'know. The more friends you have, the harder you fall." He smirks again, and you can tell it's a defense mechanism. He's trying to get you to leave him alone by looking and sounding as insufferable as possible because he doesn't feel comfortable with the topic at hand. A week ago, you would have given in and changed the subject. But as he gets more accustomed to you, you've learned to push his boundaries. He can't stay coddled in his comfort zone forever, or else he won't grow.

"Good thing I'm your only friend, then." You lightly jibe, sneaking a glance at his face in the mirror as your hands busily work, eliminating any imperfections you perceive. Sho doesn't respond.

"Why're you putting that stuff on?" He asks, and that catches you by surprise. Sho hardly after asks you questions about you. This is a rare opportunity. For what? You don't know. It takes a few moments for you to think your answer over.

"To make myself look better," Your answer sounds more like a question. "A lot of girls wear makeup to meetings and stuff because that's what society expects us to do?" He probably doesn't know anything about being a girl, so you can't really blame him. "It helps us look more 'perfect' or 'presentable'."

"That's fucking dumb," Is all he says at first. It's blunt, but there's a strained kind of emotion behind it, "That 'perfect' stuff is all bullshit," He seems to be struggling with himself a little, "That's what my shitty asshole dad used to teach me. Gotta be perfect! He'd say that but then always take the piss outta me." The openness stuns you silent. This is the most Sho has ever told you about his life. Even though you kind of skewed the point you wanted to make about the makeup, you're sure as hell not about to interrupt him. "If I can't be perfect, then no one else can be, either! You got that?" His eyebrows furrow into a scowl and it takes you several moments to realize he expects an answer from you. 

"Y-Yeah." You nod, numbly. 

"Good." He 'tsks' and quiets. You bite your lip as you put your tubes of makeup down. You stand still for what feels like a really long time, in semi-comfortable quiet. When you spend time with Sho, it's usually much louder than with Minazuki. Minazuki is the quieter of the two, Minazuki is the one who you can just sit in silence with and feel relaxed. Whenever Sho is quiet, you feel uneasy because he's always so talkative. But this is a new conversation about subject matter he's never broached before. He had just laid out his insecurities for you to see in the most open way he possibly could. That meant he trusted you. Maybe not completely, not with his life. But enough to want you to understand. And to top it off, he did it while trying to reassure you. You can't stay silent and you can't let him stew in his insecurities. 

"Thanks, Sho." You look up at him, turning your entire body to face him. "I feel a lot better, now." You weren't in complete emotional peril to start with, so your reassurance is more for him than anything else. He seems shocked by this, his eyes widening a fraction before he turns his head to the side, telltale blush returning. You don't want to push him any further, so you turn to clean your supplies up.

"Whatever." He huffs, but his gaze roams back to you once your back is turned, more tender than before.

\---

The sky melds into murky black above you as clouds swirl. The town feels like it's being lulled into a deep slumber, but you know better. Nighttime is when all the freaks come out, when everything terrible happens. It's fortunate that you have Minazuki walking at your side. It's been two weeks since you've started training, a week since Sho disclosed some of his unfortunate backstory with you. You haven't asked either of them about it, but you've definitely grown closer to the two of them. 

The two of you cross under the street lamps. Today, there hadn't been any training. Sho had been busy with work and Minazuki insisted on taking a break at least once a week. Still, he must have felt painfully idle, because he came to your apartment at three in the afternoon, asking to hang out. The last few hours had been spent drinking shitty beer and holding idle discussions over an assortment of topics. At some point, you had left the apartment and gonbe to the part to enjoy an aimless stroll. It felt good, to not have any specific goal, to just enjoy going with the flow, 

"Should we pick something up for him?" You ask as you step into the convenience store, eyes squinting underneath the fluorescent lights. 

"No. He's getting home much later tonight," Minazuki informs you as you step over to one of the coolers in the middle aisle. You look through the glass at the assortment of pre-packaged ice cream, hardly able to pick one out. "They've been giving him later shifts. I think the man who owns the place knows he's going out fighting and wants to stop him."

"Really?" You look up to him curiously, and he pauses, considering his answer, before speaking again.

"Yes. He's more like a father to us than we've ever had," The redhead hums, coming to stand next to you, also peering into the cooler. "He probably wants us to start thinking about a more practical future."

"I mean, he probably cares a lot about you, then," You reach into the cooler and take one of the flavors that appeals to you. "...You don't want anything?"

"I don't like ice cream," He informs you with a shrug, and you nod. Fair enough. You didn't expect him to have a sweet tooth, anyways. "It's kind of him to care about us so much. But I'm not sure Sho is ever going to try and get a 'real' job or career." That makes perfect sense to you. Sho has always seemed the type to do whatever he wants. You doubt he could stand working behind a desk from nine to five, or deal with aggravated customers in a civilized manner. Fighting is the best option for him because he has the skills and he doesn't need a pleasant personality for it.

"I mean, as long as it makes money, it should be fine," You say, quieting as you step up to pay for your ice cream. The two of you are silent until you walk away from the register and back outside. The sliding glass doors part for you as you wrestle with the wrapper. The two of you pause outside, underneath one of the street lamps. For a few moments, your attention remains entirely on freeing your hard-earned treat. The crinkling of the package sounds like it's the only noise for miles. That only makes you work at it faster, giving a sigh of relief as it pops open to reveal the tasty vanilla and chocolate cone. "Sorry." You apologize, sheepishly avoiding his gaze.

"It's fine." He says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"But as I was saying—if it makes money and the two of you don't get caught, then it should probably be fine," You take a bite out of the cone and wince as your teeth come into contact with the freezing chocolate shell. "If Sho enjoys it and it works for him, then do it. Everyone probably has a different definition of what a 'real' job is, so you can really only make your own interpretation of that." 

Minazuki is silent for a few moments and when you glance at him, you very briefly see his surprised expression meld into a smile that's much more tender than it was before. 

"...That makes sense," He says, leaning against the nearby brick wall. "Thank you." 

"It's no problem," You take another bite of your ice cream. "People get so elitist whenever they talk about jobs. It's so obnoxious. Just do what makes you money and what makes you happy." Before you go on a tangent, you swallow the bite of ice cream. It's already starting to meld and dribble down the sides of the cone, which sucks, since you hate it when your hands get sticky. 

"There's no reason for me to tell you this, but Sho and I weren't raised in good conditions," Minazuki tells you, and your attention snaps back to him, intrigue snatched, "Our mother died after giving birth to us and our father didn't much care. We were left to our own devices, very often. And we weren't treated well, either."  
It takes you a moment or two to really think about replying. Minazuki telling you about his past means that he's put a significant amount of trust in you. And that touches you.

"...Thank you for telling me," You say, feeling a bit dumbstruck, "I mean, Sho said something to me a few weeks ago that made me think you two weren't treated well, but I didn't want to push on it," Your ice cream has been forgotten and you faintly feel it dribble over your fingers. You don't acknowledge it. "I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me things like that.

"You're trustworthy," Minazuki nods, "Sho and I don't have many friends, much less people we can trust completely." He takes a step forward and looks down, and you realize he's looking at your ice cream.

"...Do you want a bite?" The words come out of your mouth before you can even think about them. So much for the deep, emotional conversation you were having. You start to berate yourself but immediately stop when he reaches up to your face, thumb brushing along your cheek. Your breathing stops and your heart stutters in your chest as he pulls his thumb back to his lips, licking off the bit of ice cream he had cleaned off you.

"Delicious." He murmurs, looking at you in a way that makes your stomach do funny things.

"Y-Yeah," You managed to wheeze out, and he laughs. It's the first full laugh you've gotten from him. beyond the occasional chuckle here and there. But it's still very brief, ending as he looks down to you with fascination.

"C'mon, I'll walk you home."

\---

Three days later, you make Sho fall onto his ass for the first time. It's only one time but you know you're going to be thinking about this for the rest of your life. The sun shines down onto his bright red hair as he stares up at you, stunned. The small clearing you've come to know closely suddenly feels larger than before, more wide open. You can't suppress the wide grin that comes across your face as Sho stands up. Minazuki claps from the other side, where he's been leaning against the huge rock.

"I did it!" It's impossible to not be excited. The sudden rush of pride you feel is dizzying, so much so that in your haste, you leap forward and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Sho tenses underneath your touchand you get ready to reel back, to apologize hastily because you're not sure how he feels about being touched like that.

"...Don't get ahead of yourself," You pull back a little to look at him. He's obviously trying not to smile, averting his gaze. You open your mouth to tease him about it, but the moment you do, you're flat on the ground, staring up at the blue sky and the bamboo that stretches upwards. "Really. Don't get ahead of yourself. That was... good. But you still got a lot to learn." Much to his credit, he's gotten better at balancing criticism with compliments. You lift yourself to sit upright.

"Yeah, I know," You say to him, still smiling. "But I got time. It's not like I'm gonna be a tournament fighter or anything."

"Yeah, I know," Sho repeats mockingly. "But I know you can do better. I don't have all the time in the world to train you, especially 'cause I got the championship comin' up this weekend. Gotta get ready."

"You're not participating?" You crane your head back to look at Minazuki, who nods.

"No, I'm not. I have other plans this weekend." You want to ask but you also don't want to be nosy. You doubt he'd appreciate you sticking your nose into his affairs, no matter how close you are.

"Oi! Pay attention to me. I'm the one who's gonna be fighting and winning!" Sho demands and you turn back to him. He's crossed his arms, looking down at you expectantly. This angle is kind of awkward so you lift yourself to your feet and dust off your pants.

"Sorry," You apologize, though he really doesn't seem that pissed in the first place. There's normal Sho, who bristles at every little thing but doesn't stay mad for more than three seconds, and pissed Sho, who is actually violent. You know the difference between the two, by now. "Good luck, Sho. I'll definitely be better on you, again." 

"You better." He huffs and grins wide. "I'm gonna take the entire fucking place by storm."

"I don't want to rain on your parade or anything, but don't you have work in a half-hour?" Minazuki pipes up from the other side of the clearing, giving his brother a knowing smile. Sho's eyes widen in a comically panicked expression, before he curses and jolts off without so much as a farewell. You still don't know where he lives, but you know that getting home, taking a shower and changing, and getting to work probably can't be done in that amount of time. Your worry must have shown on your expression, because Minazuki smiles and comforts you. "He'll be fine. The owner won't punish him, or anything." 

"Good," You nod, giving a small sigh. "You wanna wrap up early for today, then?" Minazuki thinks on it for a moment and then nods.

"That's fine with me. But before you go, I wanted to talk to you about Sho," About Sho? Throughout the past weeks, many of your conversations have revolved around his brother. You're not sure what else there is to cover, but you stay quiet anyways. They've been doing you an immense favor by training you, and you like to think that you've become close to them. "He likes you a lot, you know." That makes you pause. There must be confusion written all over your face because Minazuki sighs and continues to explain. "He's become attached to you in a way he isn't with other people. He likes you, romantically. I don't expect you to return his feelings. But please, be careful with him."

"I mean, yeah," You struggle to get the words out. "I mean, I think I might like him back? But I don't want to start anything if I don't know for sure. And if we do get into a relationship, I won't mistreat him." Does Sho really want a relationship with you? Does he even know what romantic feelings are? He's so emotionally stunted that you don't know, and are too afraid to ask.

"I didn't think you would," Minazuki nods. "You're a good person. And you're patient." 

"Thank you... I'll be leaving, now." While you feel bad about leaving, you speed walk the hell out of there. Your feelings are jumbled as hell and you just need to be alone. There's way too much shit for you to figure out for yourself and for your future.

\---

Saturday night arrives faster than you wanted it to. Ever since your conversation with Minazuki the other day, you’ve been walking on eggshells with Sho. It pains you, because over the past few weeks, you’ve really come to know him and feel relaxed around him. But you don’t want to fuck this relationship up. Both of the brothers have become important to you. 

You think about Minazuki’s steadfast maturity as you weave through the crowd to get to the top floor. You think about the way Sho tried to reassure you a few weeks ago as you watch him fight. It’s impossible to not follow his every moment, admiring the graceful viciousness his style employs. Like usual, you’ve decided to bet on him. Like usual, he comes through and wins. It’s an anticlimactic final battle, to say the least. But you can’t say you really care. It’s making you money, and that’s all that matters. The booth clerk says something to you when he hands you your money, but you tune it out and go back up the stairs, emerging into the empty warehouse before the rest of the crowd, like always.

The aged wooden crates and broken panes of glass are as comforting as the darkness that envelops you completely. There’s a faint smell of gasoline, like usual. You move your gaze around the area, noticing nothing different until you reach the back of the warehouse. It’s a similar, peculiar sight to what you saw a few weeks ago. There’s a noticeable group of about seven people clustered outside where the fighters usually emerge.

A few weeks ago, you would have simply left. But a sinking feeling in your chest tells you to stay, because you think you know why they’re here and what they’re after. Visions of Sho, bloodied and battered, assault your memory and you keep your feet firmly rooted to the floor. Thankfully, you’re dressed in all black and they’re too focused on the back entrance to notice you, yards away. Your pulse thrums in your throat because you don’t want to actually get in a fight, because you’ve only been training. Can you really defend yourself against a bunch of people who likely have knives and guns and other weapons?

You don’t get to think on it. The door shifts and Sho comes out. The light fixed above the fighter entrance door casts a sickly, yellow glow onto him. His swords are clutched in his hands, at the ready.

“You fuckers again, huh?” He sneers at the group. “Buncha bitches too weak to fight me one-on-one, huh?”

“Seems like you didn’t learn your lesson the last time.” One idly comments. You fish in your jacket pockets for one of the small daggers Minazuki gifted you with. Knowing you can’t leave him behind, you begin to prowl forward, avoiding any debris that could alert them to your presence. One of the group members to the side digs in his pocket and you see the beginnings of a pistol emerge. 

You throw the dagger. It impales him through his wrist.

All hell breaks loose as he screams. The other six are disoriented for a few moments, but that’s enough time for Sho to stab one through the shoulder, sending him to the ground. You take the chance and rush forward while they’re attention is locked on him, sweeping the legs out from underneath the man who had the pistol, making him faceplant on the floor. 

“Back up this time, huh!?” Another member howls, outraged. Before they can even regroup, Sho is on them again, slashing open wounds and flawlessly fending off three, leaving you with the other two. You slide to the side to avoid a punch and reach your foot around to knock him off his balance, angling your fist to meet his face as he falls. The other one comes up on you and you land a nasty hit to his kidneys, knocking the air out of him. He screams when you get close, jamming your knee as hard as possible between his legs. He falls to the floor in a fit of spasms and you look away, searching for Sho.

Your search is interrupted when someone grabs your hand. You open your mouth to scream but Sho’s voice hushes you as he drags you forward.

“C’mon!” He snaps, and the two of you are running out of the warehouse. The adrenaline that surges through your every muscle lets you match his pace as you flee down the streets. The streetlamps and surrounding buildings blur as you focus your attention on his back, noting his broadness, noting that he doesn’t seem wounded. It’s definitely a relief, but not one you get to think on before he’s grabbing you and tugging you into an alleyway, slamming you to the brick wall.

“Sho—!?”

“What the fuck were you thinking!?” He’s furious, but there’s an anguished, frantic quality to his voice that renders you silent. His eyes are glowing in a way that scares the shit out of you, wider than you’ve ever seen them. You’re witnessing every “You could’ve been killed, you fucking idiot! There were seven of them!”

“I could say the same about you.” You wheeze and his hands ball into the fabric of your jacket. He sputters, looking for a reply.

“You could’ve been killed!” He repeats, and there’s something much weaker about it. The tension in his shoulders loosens and he drops himself forward, forehead coming to rest in between your neck and your shoulder, “You could’ve been fuckin’ killed and it would’ve been my fault. Don’t do shit like that again, y’hear?” His grip on your sweater loosens and his hands tremble slightly. You reach your arms around him to hesitantly tug him close. You can feel his heart beating frantically as he returns your hug, crushing you to his body.

“It’s okay,” You soothe, resting the side of your head against his. “I’m here.”

He moves back to look you in the eyes, and you’re effectively silenced. The only noise is the occasional pass of a car, but they all sound miles away when you’re locked in on him, like this. He hesitantly leans forward, pressing his forehead against your own. It’s the gentlest, the slowest you’ve ever seen him. 

His lips press unsurely, tenderly against your own and you melt, a small smile forming on your face. The kiss only lasts for a few seconds, but it gives you all you need to know. A hand rubs up his back and you curl your fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp.

“You wanna go home?” He inquires, voice rusty. You don’t know what you are to each other, and you won’t really have a label to put on it until you have an in-depth discussion. But that can wait until you’re calm and he’s calmer, until tomorrow morning. Or even the afternoon. 

“Yeah.” You say, blinking wearily, still smiling. 

“Let’s go home.”


End file.
